


You’ll Love Me When I’m Done With You

by NoelleLilacNotte, Yiiiiikes



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dib is highkey delusional, Explicit Rape, F/M, Not for the faint of heart, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, i am the reason we can’t have nice things, no happy ending, seriously this is a fucked up horny vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleLilacNotte/pseuds/NoelleLilacNotte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yiiiiikes/pseuds/Yiiiiikes
Summary: Picking on the school reject may have been a bad idea. Or maybe you should have rejected him harder.
Relationships: Dib Membrane/Reader, Dib/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	You’ll Love Me When I’m Done With You

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry Jhonen

You didn't _hate_ Dib Membrane. Much of your teasing was greatly exaggerated. In fact, on your first day of school you had been rather charmed by his boyish look, his passion for all things weird, and just how _friendly_ he was to you. But you were quickly made aware of the fact that Dib was a social pariah. So you did what everyone else at school did.

You mocked him.

 _Relentlessly_.

But no matter how much you made fun of him he never seemed to get the memo. He would frequently try to talk to you in class, ask you to sit with him at lunch, and stop you in the hallway to ask if you wanted him to walk you to class.

Perhaps worst of all though was the staring. The constant, unwavering staring. It freaked you the fuck out! If his social status hadn't turned you away from him the staring problem would have.

Recently it had gotten worse. His staring had escalated into following you around school. He had even started riding the same bus as you. And you lived on the opposite end of town!

It was unnerving to say the least.

Today wasn't any better, you'd spent the last half an hour of your English class checking to see if he was _still_ watching you. You turned around and- yep. He was staring directly at you. Fuck. You raised your hand.

"Ma'am, may I please use the restroom?" You just needed two fucking minutes of him not staring at you. Just two minutes and then you could go back to class and pretend he wasn't there.

You thought hey, maybe a few minutes _away_ from you would stop the staring. You hadn’t even bothered to actually go into the bathroom, just sat on the floor next to the water fountain feeling like shit.

It’s not like you hadn’t _tried_ to get him to stop. You’d told him off for it on a couple of occasions. You’d told him, point-blank, to stop fucking staring at you. He’d just give you a giddy grin and walk off, and then not actually stop.

Even sitting alone in the dingy hallway under the harsh fluorescent lights, you felt like he could see you. His paranoia was starting to rub off on you.

Or at least, that’s what you thought, before you spotted the glint of glass and flutter of black fabric at the end of the hallway. He’d followed you. Of course he did.

And he was still. Fucking. Staring.

You stood up. You were torn between confronting him yet again or just running away. You chose the second option. For a brief moment before you turned around you locked eyes with Dib. The look on his face was... alarming, to say the least.

He looked like he was about to get married, all giddy and in love.

You did NOT like that look being directed at you.

You turned away and power walked into the girls bathroom. He couldn't come in there so you were safe! At least that's what you thought.

The school bathrooms were an enigma. You never saw anyone going in or out of them but they were always positively filthy. Still, you braced yourself against the cracked sink at the far end of the bathroom and tried to calm down.

You had gotten in _maybe_ six seconds of slow, controlled breathing when you heard the sound of his combat boots on the bathroom tile. When you looked up, there he was. Standing at the other end of the bathroom, staring at you.

For an instant you were terrified. But some switch flipped in your brain and you were suddenly pissed off beyond belief.

"Hey, pervert this is the girls bathroom. You can't be in here." You said, your voice firm and unwavering despite your lingering fear.

He didn't respond, instead opting to advance towards you. You were immediately reverted back to terror.

"H-hey, I'm fucking serious dude. Get out. You're gonna get in a lot of trouble." This time your voice wavered. In spite of your protests, he continued walking towards you, reaching you quickly. You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to scream at him, but you were cut off when he pressed his body fully against yours and stuck his tongue in your open mouth.

You would have shrieked if you’d been able to breathe. You were wedged in the corner between the countertop and the wall. The cold tiles suddenly seemed a lot more comforting than the alternative, which was apparently being crushed by the heated flesh of the boy in front of you.

He pushed you up, forcing you to sit on the counter, but keeping your body pressed flush against his. He held one of your hands down against the sink by the wrist, his other hand snaking up your back and into your hair.

Dib shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth, teeth crashing against yours painfully. He didn’t seem to notice, just curled his hand deeper into your hair.

With a sharp tug, he yanked your head back, finally releasing your mouth from his. You gasped, drinking in the air he’d been starving you of, but before you could start screaming at him, or for help, for _anyone_ , the hand that had been on your head latched around your neck.

“You’re so mean sometimes, but I know you don’t _really_ mean it.”

You choked, unable to formulate a response with his fingers keeping your windpipe clamped shut.

“I know how you feel about me...I feel it too. I saw you on the first day you got here, you smiled at me...you were so nice before *they* started talking to you.”

Just before you thought you’d pass out, he released your throat from his grasp, only to shove his body back into yours, tongue forcing its way past your lips again.

He was so close to you, you could feel his body heating up as he pushed himself into your space. You really regretted wearing a skirt that day, especially now that you could practically feel the blood pulsing in his dick through his jeans.

Your hand started to go numb, he was cutting off the circulation in your wrist. His glasses hit your face and you squeaked, in fear and pain. He mistook it as arousal, and bucked his hips into you.

You really didn’t like what that did to you.

You stifled a sob. You weren't sure what exactly brought you to tears, maybe the lack of air, or maybe the sick feeling you got when your body reacted positively to Dib dry humping you.

You squirmed, trying to get away from him, but you only succeeded in slipping off the counter and grinding against him.

He moaned into your mouth and reciprocated the action. He pulled his face away from yours to smile at you.

"See? It's just us now. You don't have to feel bad about your feelings for me!" He was aggressively dry humping you now. Your tailbone was being pressed hard into the counter, but that pain was the least of your worries.

He resumed kissing you, and brought his free hand up to your chest, squeezing your nipple through your thin t shirt. It made your toes curl and you hated it. But the whine you let out said otherwise.

He pulled away for a moment, just long enough to shove his jeans and boxers down. He reached his hand up your thigh, and in any other context the way he did it would have been sweet.

But this wasn’t sweet. The guy who’d been borderline stalking you for a month had you cornered in a dirty school bathroom, and the feeling of his fingertips gently coaxing your underwear off was making you nauseous.

He looked like he was in heaven when he finally pulled your alien-print panties off of you. A childishly happy grin, one that you’d deny to the grave you found endearing, lit up his flushed face.

“You wore these for _me_ , didn’t you? I saw them when you sat down, and I couldn’t resist...you’re so thoughtful when you’re not with them.”

He tossed the garment into one of the sinks, and resumed his assault on your mouth. He was so close to you now, the heat rolling off his body was infecting you. You could feel the sticky, warm air wafting off of his nether regions. He brushed the tip against your inner thigh, moaning at the contact and shuddering in anticipation.

He finally, _f_ _inally_ , took his hand off your now-entirely-numb hand, letting it fall limp on the counter. He reached up to cup your cheek, softly coaxing your face into a position where he could better kiss you.

The kiss didn’t last long. He pulled back, holding your face in his hands, staring, still fucking staring, at you. He leaned in again, and you expected his tongue to end up back in your mouth, but he licked up the side of your cheek, from your chin to just below your eye.

Where you’d been crying. The creepy piece of shit was licking up your tears like a fucking ice cream cone.

You were about to yell, to scream, to threaten hitting him once you regained the use of your arm, but were silenced by a hot, stinging pain as he entered you in one movement.

“Fuck...fuck! Tight...oh my god...oh god I love you...I fucking love you!”

You didn't moan or scream or make much of a noise at all. You just gasped, and grimaced. It hurt like all hell but... it would have hurt a lot more if you were less wet.

He leaned down to kiss your neck, not thrusting or moving at all, just standing totaly stationary, halfway inside you. You didn't notice that you were shaking until he pushed fully into you and your legs twitched _hard_.

"God you're so fucking perfect!" He moaned, his voice an octave higher than it usually was.

You didn't say anything. You didn't dare breathe too hard, lest it send another wave of pain through your body. You weren't a virgin but it had been a damn long time since you'd been fucked and this was... not a great way to get back into the game.

You closed your eyes and tried to pretend that you were literally anywhere else, and you may have even succeeded had Dib not pulled out of you almost completely before slamming back into you.

You let out a cry, but you weren't sure if it was one of pain or pleasure.

Dib, overwhelmed with his own pleasure took a break neck pace, slamming his hips against your thighs. You weren't sure if your cunt could bruise but it definitely felt like it was going to be bruised tomorrow.

"It's like... It's like you were made for me! You're so tight an-and you feel so good!" His breath was hot against your jaw. His words brought on a fresh wave of tears, but he continued rambling while he fucked you.

He licked a stripe up the other side of your face, cleaning the newly fallen tears from that cheek. He didn’t even give you time to think before he kissed you again, forcing the taste of salty tears and spit onto your tongue.

His hands went to your hips, and when he finally pulled off of your mouth, he attached himself to your neck again. His teeth nipped at the skin trapped under his lips, and his fingertips dug into your sides hard enough that you were _sure_ it would bruise.

He mumbled words you couldn’t make out against your throat, each syllable sending vibrations down your bloodstream. His hips snapped up, harder and faster than before, as his pace increased and became erratic.

You tried to shove him away once you realized what was happening, but with one arm squeezed between the wall and his shoulder, and the other still barely able to feel, you succeeded in little more than twitching.

The heat radiating off of his body became almost unbearable, the rushed pace of his thrusts matching his labored breathing. The denim still covering his hips was scraping up the insides of your thighs, and his unkempt pubes were tickling your clit with every rushed slam of his hips into yours.

He pulled off your neck finally, blushing even harder at the sight of the bruise his mouth had left behind. His wild, lovestruck eyes met yours. He bit his lip and smiled when he came.

He didn’t pull out, he stayed inside you even as he came down from his high. His hands moved from your hips, gliding up your waist and ribs, finally settling on your back and pulled you into a gentle, dare you say comforting, hug.

“I love you. I really do. I’d stay like this forever if I could. But someone’s bound to notice if we stay too long.”

You didn’t respond, to delirious, dehydrated, and sore all over to speak.

“...I’ll tell the teacher you were sick. You can go home, and I’ll meet you there later. I’ve followed you before, so I won’t get lost, I promise! I’ll bring you to my place, dad’s never home so nobody will question it.”

You let another few tears fall, too tired to argue. He pulled himself out of you, supporting your weight as you nearly dropped to the floor. Once he was sure you could stand up by yourself, he tucked himself back into his jeans, snatched your underwear out of the sink...and stuck it in his pocket.

He held your face in one hand again, and wiped away the remains of your tears before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips.

“I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

You stood stock still as he left. Your knees shook and one hand was still almost completely limp. You didn't want to go home. You didn't want to go home with _him._ You wanted to tell someone. You _had_ to tell someone.

You started walking to the bathroom door but you stopped when you felt i _t._ His cum, dripping out of you, sliding down your thigh.

You wanted to scream and cry and boil yourself alive. But instead, you shuffled to the door trying not to let any more out for fear of someone seeing your creepy rapists cum dripping out of you.

You did not go back for your backpack.

You took an early bus home and sat in your shower, watching his cum drip out of you and slip down the drain. You stayed in the shower until the water turned to ice.

Your hair hadn’t even dried when the doorbell rang. You knew who it was, you _knew_ it had to be him, who else would it have been? But you answered the door. You didn’t know why. Maybe some misguided hope that it would someone else, literally _anybody_ else, and you could cry on their shoulder in the privacy of your own room.

But it was him. Of course it was him. Dib stood in your doorway, holding your forgotten backpack. He dropped it on the floor unceremoniously and pulled you into a tight hug the moment he’d shut the door behind him.

You just went limp. He kissed your cheeks and whispered how much he’d missed you, how cute you looked with damp hair, how he’d been waiting to kiss you again all day. You just relaxed your body in his grip and waited for it to be over.

He cupped your cheeks, pulling your face up so he could look at you properly despite how much height he had on you. He tilted your head from side to side, checking for...something. You weren’t sure what.

“Hey are you ok? You seem kinda upset.”

You tried to stay stoic, you really did. But it got too much, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You broke, and you started sobbing. He pulled you back into the hug, one arm around your waist and one in your hair, and whispered soft little nothings to you.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what you *could* do, so you did the only thing you could think to.

You hugged him back, and cried into his shirt.

Despite your two hour shower, you felt dirty all over again. You curl into a ball against him, but the movement sends a fresh wave of aching through your insides. You cry harder at the feeling and without thinking you mutter, "it hurts. It hurts so bad."

Dib shushed you and kissed your head.

"I was a little rough wasn't I?" He mumbled into your hair. He pulled back, the hand in your hair retracting to stroke your cheek. "How about I make it up to you, okay?"

You didn't like the sound of that. And you disliked it even more when he layed you down on your couch.

Your eyes ached from the crying but you just couldnt stop. You wanted to beg him to go away, to leave you alone and never touch you or look at you again, but you were sobbing so hard you could barely even breathe.

Dib leaned over you and lifted up your shirt to press a kiss against your stomach. He carefully pulled down the pajama pants you'd put on after your shower.

He trailed kisses from your bellybutton down to your clit.

You were still crying and shaking as he gently lifted your hips and buried his tongue into your cunt.

He was trying to go slow, you could tell. He was holding himself back, lazily tracing circles and shapes around your insides. The occasional nip to your thighs or flick of his tongue kept you from ignoring him.

His fingers were back on your hips, avoiding the bruises he’d put there earlier. You hated how gentle he was being. Why was he even bothering to act like he cared?

You choked out a mixture of moans and sobs as his tongue kept up its movements. It felt good, at least physically. The miserable sickness lodged in your stomach was still there, but at least this didn’t hurt.

He kissed your clit and you whined, your body still slightly overstimulated from what he’d done to you before. Your hands went to his head instinctively, pulling at the fluffy chunks of hair falling in his face.

He looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t hesitate to call loving.

"I love you so much." He punctuated the sentence with a kiss on your inner thigh. "I promise I'm always gonna treasure you." Your sobs had ceased, your body too weak to do anything but lie limp on your couch while tears streamed down your face.

It was fairly clear that he didn't _quite_ know what he was doing, but what he lacked in skill he made up for in passion. And he was very observant, he noticed how you reacted to each new movement and avoised or repeated each action based on that.

The sight of him between your legs left you feeling ill, and the obscene sound of him lapping at your cunt made you cringe. Maybe if you closed your eyes and pretended he was someone else, you could enjoy this, or at least tune it out.

But then the bastard had to lift his head and start talking again.

“I’ll take care of you, always. Nothing’s gonna hurt you, ever, cuz I’m gonna protect you.”

The irony of his statement was not lost on you, and had you been anyone else you might have laughed at the absurdity.

You clamped your knees together, effectively trapping Dib’s head between your legs. He seemed to get the message, and doubled his efforts. You closed your eyes and leaned back, trying to imagine anyone else but him.

Maybe one of your friends. Maybe Zita, or Chucky, or...Zim. It felt poetic somehow, pretending that he was Zim. They didn’t exactly get along, and even if you couldn’t stop Dib from doing... _this_ , you could at least get your own kind of cosmic petty revenge.

You came on Dib’s tongue with Zim’s face in your mind. But you forgot about the little green kid the moment you saw Dib’s half-lidded, gentle eyes. He seemed almost drunk, but still just as lovesick as before.

You felt a pang if guilt for imagining anyone but him, and the shock of that feeling hurt you. Dib sat up, and slid his coat off of his shoulders. He dropped the heavy, canvas fabric onto your shoulders, and coaxed you into a cuddling position.

You had your head resting on his lap, body half naked and covered by his coat, draped limply over the couch. He had his hand on your back, rubbing soft circles over your spine.

You drifted off with a thought.

“It could be worse.”

**Author's Note:**

> Us: ZaDf x Reader  
> Jhonen: fuck no  
> Us: Dib fucking rapes a cheerleader  
> Jhonen: yeah ok that’s fair


End file.
